


Hands Remember

by Bad Samaritan (quodpersortem)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Bottom Dean, Chubby Dean, Condom, Fallen Castiel, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Foreplay, Hickeys, Human Castiel, Insecure Dean, Love, Lube, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise, Praise Kink, Top Castiel, cas praising dean, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/Bad%20Samaritan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been together-<i>together</i> for a while now. And while they’ve fooled around before today, with Dean a little insecure about his body and Cas more than a little enthusiastic about getting to touch Dean, this is the first time that they’ve deliberately sent Sam away from the bunker with the purpose of having sex.</p><p>(Or: slow, sensual and hopefully more-or-less realistic sex).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands Remember

**Author's Note:**

> The fic plot (eh) was inspired by [deansgoodsoul](deansgoodsoul.tumblr.com/) @Tumblr. 
> 
> The title comes from a song by Seabear named (you called it) [Hands Remember](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p0M6s_OIRNc).

They’ve been together- _together_ for a while now.

While they’ve fooled around before today, with Dean a little insecure about his body and Cas more than a little enthusiastic about getting to touch Dean, this is the first time that they’ve deliberately sent Sam away from the bunker with the purpose of having sex.

They start out on the couch, exchanging lazy peppermint kisses until Cas grows impatient, running hot sitting in Dean’s lap. He’s pushing his tongue against Dean’s mouth more and more insistently before moving on to his jaw and neck, licking and biting at the skin until Dean bares his neck, giving Cas full access. Cas keeps pushing up against him until Dean gives in, hard in his jeans from the kisses alone and harder from feeling the bulge in Castiel’s pants pressed against his stomach whenever he humps forward. 

They kiss all the way to Dean’s bedroom, Cas pushing him up against a wall to make Dean feel how hard he is again and again, and Dean moans every time. 

Regardless of some brief experimentation as an adolescent, Dean never thought himself to be the guy who went crazy for dick—but Cas is different, apparently. Feeling his arousal pressed _anywhere_ against him makes him salivate, his heart speeding up as he has a head rush of how _awesome_ it is that Cas gets this hard this easily from being with him. Frankly, it’s really frickin’ flattering. 

Cas makes him lie down first, swiftly undoing Dean’s jeans. They’ve done this much before, and Dean’s marveling even before he lifts his hips so Cas can shove down his jeans. Dean watches Cas as he pulls off Dean’s socks so his legs are bare before he sits back up between his legs, kissing up and down Dean’s thighs—and shit, that’s a nice visual when it’s framed by the bulge of his dick—before his fingers hook behind the waistband of his underwear. His cock slaps against his shirt, making him gasp, and then Cas is kissing the underside, licking it.

Dean blushes when Cas pushes up his shirt then, both hands skimming over his skin even as Dean tries to push the fabric back down. 

Cas’ head pops up, and the asshole’s smirking as he continues to kiss his path up Dean’s belly, so Dean stops him, covering Cas’ hands with his own. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he says, and leans in to press a kiss below Dean’s belly button.

And Dean _knows_ , rationally, that nothing’s wrong with some pudge on his stomach, because he’s healthy and he’s feeling pretty damn happy in general. Well fed in a way he hasn’t been before, ever in his life, except before his mom died. That doesn’t prevent him from feeling self-conscious about his recent weight gain—he’s seen Cas’ abs, more defined than his own have ever been. Right now? His own abs look like they don’t exist. It isn’t exactly _sexy_ or _hot_.

“I just don’t like you looking at it,” Dean mutters. His head grows even warmer and he’s pretty sure that his chest is growing flushed as well. 

“I like kissing it, Dean,” Cas kisses the patch of revealed skin, still pushing his hands against Dean’s. “Touching it.” He digs his hand into Dean’s ribcage, almost tickling him. “I love _biting_ you,” and with that he gently nips at the skin with his teeth, licking the same spot right after and Dean arches up, his cock jerking as Cas starts to suck a hickey into his skin.

“Cas,” he groans, still trying to push him off, no matter how futile his attempts are by now.

Cas shushes him, finally curling his fingers around Dean’s erection so Dean has to let him go. Cas seizes the opportunity almost immediately, pushing Dean’s shirt up so far that the fabric bunches under his arms.

Dean lets Cas take it off, finally, and Cas’ desperate hands on his skin are an incredible turn-on. Cas struggles out of his own shirt next, before he lies down on top of Dean and kisses him again. 

“I like your softness,” he whispers into Dean’s mouth, letting Dean push down his own jeans; loose on his hips because the button’s already undone. His hand disappears between their bodies again, wriggling past Dean’s erection to push two fingers against his balls. “I like your hairiness,” he smirks, and Dean rolls his eyes. It’s the kind of remark he’s come to expect of Cas, now that he’s human, now that he knows that his bluntness turns Dean on.

Cas wriggles his jeans off by shoving his legs against Dean’s, the rough friction making his skin prickle for a moment. Once they’re naked, Dean pulls him close, kissing Cas as their hips start to roll together There’s too much friction so he grabs the lube he stuffed under his pillow earlier—might always come in handy, he’d figured—and pours some into the palm of his hand. It’s a little difficult getting it between their bodies without spilling it all over the place, but when he slicks down Cas’ dick it’s _so worth it_.

Dean’s looking at him the moment he does, the moment the cold gel touches Cas’ overheated skin. His jaw drops and his eyes roll back in his head as his hips pick up the rhythm. His arms are planted on either side of Dean, making indents in the mattress, and all Dean can think is, _if this is response to my_ hand, _then how_ -

“Cas,” he whispers, “Cas.” He has to let go and wait a couple of seconds until Cas turns his head to look at him, his eyes still a little glazed. “Do you want to have sex?”

“I thought we were _having_ sex,” Cas snips, and okay, Dean _gets_ that, but—

“I know, but—” He takes a deep breath, and not knowing how else to fucking _word_ this he spreads his legs so Cas drops a little. The friction makes them both gasp, Cas surging up to press an open-mouthed kiss to Dean’s mouth, before he stares at Dean waiting for an answer. “ _Sex_.”

“Intercourse,” Cas nods as he understands. He’s looking a little flustered and grunts as he pushes his dick against Dean’s again. “Yes. Yes, I would like that.”

Dean laughs, a little nervously, because he’s done this before but—not _like_ this. “Yeah, okay. Uh. Gimme the lube.”

Cas looks at him again before he slowly shakes his head. Deliberately. “No. No, I think I’ll do this for you.” 

Dean doesn’t protest it; instead he perches himself up on his arms to watch Cas who has moved to sit between Dean’s legs. “Do you want me on my stomach?”

“I want you just like this,” Cas mutters, pouring lube onto his fingers. There’s a generous amount, and Dean wonders— _woh_ —Cas’ fingers press against his skin before the lube has warmed, making Dean yelp and squeeze his legs together. Cas just hums, rubbing in little movements until Dean relaxes again, spreading his thighs to give Cas better access. He grabs his pillow and puts it under his hips when Cas takes a while, and then a finger is pressing deeper and pressing deeper and Dean gasps as it slides in to Cas’ knuckle; as far as it can go.

It only serves to empathize the emptiness he’s feeling, how badly he wants to be filled up now right now. “Cas—” he gasps, because he can take another but he can’t voice it, and Cas understands anyway.

The second finger slips in just as easily, even if it stretches him a little more. Dean trails a finger up and down his erection so he’ll stay hard through the awkward feeling of getting prepped; of being watched the way Cas is watching him. The flush is back on his chest, too, which would’ve been embarrassing if Cas hadn’t looked at him like Dean’s a god. He _feels_ like a god, touched by an angel. 

Yeah. He’s stopping that train of thought right there.

Cas finger-fucks him like that for a while, until Dean’s getting into it, moaning loudly. Then, he adds a third and asks, “Where is my angel blade?”

It stops Dean dead in his track for a moment, before he realizes what Cas is getting at. “Your—Jesus Christ, Cas,” he splutters out an awkward laugh and points at the pillow. “Underneath the—there, right where I got the lube from.”

Cas slowly pulls his fingers from Dean’s hole, flexing them even as he goes, before he reaches for one of the little foil squares. Dean pulls up one of his knees, and when Cas leans back over him, he hooks that leg over Cas’ arm for easier access. 

“Are you ready?” Cas asks, and there’s concern in his voice even though his dick is pressing against Dean’s thigh, wet with lube and dizzyingly hot even through the condom.

“Yeah,” Dean nods, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I am.”

He stares up at the ceiling as he feels Cas’ knuckles brush his thigh, then push against the skin as he guides his erection towards Dean’s ass. Dean relaxes into the feeling of intrusion, allowing Cas to slip in easily—he hears the gasp that the tightness of his muscles draws from Castiel and it sends a rush of arousal through his own body. Cas slides home smoothly, and looks down at Dean again.

“You’re gorgeous.” Cas is repeating himself, which ordinarily would have annoyed Dean; it doesn’t today. It won’t ever, coming from Cas, because no matter how often he says it, each time it’s with a voice filled with wonder and awe and Dean loves the praise. Loves to be loved in the way Cas loves him, because it feels _right_.

“Fuck me, Cas,” he looks up at Cas, their eyes locking together as Cas starts to move.

“I’m making love to you,” he mutters at Dean, and Dean gasps as he grabs Dean’s hand, entwining their fingers on the bed next to Dean’s body. Some of Cas’ body weight leans on him, but it’s not that uncomfortable—if anything, it is a reminder of how wonderfully, perfectly _human_ Cas is right now.

The physical sensations are great, but it’s the psychological aspect that’s overwhelming; Dean’s never been a fan of looking at a lover while he fucked them. Now, he can’t stand to look away from Cas except when he curls up his upper body so they can reach together for a kiss; then another, hot and open mouthed with just a hint of tongue. 

At least, until the heat in his body builds faster and faster, because then all thought’s gone and all he can do is let himself fall back onto the bed and moan as his back arches up, involuntarily, sliding his own hand down his belly—well aware that Cas is following his movements—before curling it around his dick.

Getting fucked is even better then; Cas pushing in and out as he collects the precome gathered at the slit of his dick and uses it, along with the remaining lube from earlier, to pump his dick in and out of his fist. Dean reaches his other hand over his head, grabbing the sheets there as he decides to fuck it and be as loud as he _wants_ to be. _Can_ be.

Cas is making little grunts and noises the entire time, desperately fucking Dean now. He doesn’t seem to have the patience to draw out all the way anymore, back on his way back in before Dean realizes, and every time it feels like a punch of _yes_ to his guts. 

They’re both sweating like mad, little droplets forming on Cas’ forehead, above his upper lip, and Dean licks his own lips to find Cas’ eying him again. He opens his mouth, wants to say something, but Cas leans closer to him and the change in position allows his dick to brush against Dean’s prostate.

It’s a sudden shock and he squeezes the base of his cock but it’s too late; Dean’s coming all over his stomach, thick globs of semen that land hot on his skin as he rides it out with his eyes closed. He barely even realizes that Cas is coming too—notices it in the suddenly rigid movements and the quiet gasping, but only after they have been going on for a while.

After that, they stay in position for a moment longer, observing one another before Cas smiles.

“That was very good, Dean,” he says as he starts to pull out, Dean grimacing at the feel of it now that he isn’t turned on anymore. 

“Wanna do that again, eh?” Dean asks jokingly, even though he definitely wants to do that again.

“Yes,” Cas smirks, straightening himself and stretching his body before he reach down to snap off the condom. He throws it onto the floor, making Dean roll his eyes. 

Dean’s still on his back, because he needs Cas to go for a washcloth or paper towels—there’s no way he’s going to get frickin _sperm_ in his sheets when he has the option of _not_ letting that happen, even if the lube’s already made a wet spot. 

Instead, Cas leans over him and laps at one of the puddles. It slides half off his tongue and it looks ridiculously obscene, in a way that makes Dean’s cock twitch painfully so soon after coming. 

“Cas,” he groans as Cas continues to kiss at his skin and lick the come off. “You’re going to be the end of me.”

“That would only bring your life to a full circle,” Cas mutters into his skin, and Dean smiles and shakes his head as he’s the one to reach down this time, finding Cas hand and holding onto it.


End file.
